


Taking Hands Against a Sea of Troubles

by bbcphile



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Antony and Cleopatra, Fluff and Angst, M/M, References to Shakespeare, Shakespeare Quotations, Shore Leave, Suicide Attempt, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 08:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13209639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbcphile/pseuds/bbcphile
Summary: To celebrate Horatio’s promotion to Lieutenant and their new relationship, Archie takes Horatio to see a play at Drury Lane. Neither of them counted on it being Antony and Cleopatra, or its stirring up the spectre of El Ferrol and horrors they wished were long forgotten.





	Taking Hands Against a Sea of Troubles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [athenasdragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenasdragon/gifts).



> Thanks to athenasdragon for the prompt--"Something with Archie's Shakespeare passion!"--and thanks to kedge and girabbit for the beta-ing!
> 
> Notes: Trigger warning for discussion of suicide.

 

Archie halted in mid-stride in the centre of the crowded street and snapped his head around to stare at Horatio. “What do you mean, you’ve never been to Drury Lane?”

Horatio rolled his eyes and dragged Archie out of the road before a carriage ran him over. “Exactly what I said, Archie. It hardly warrants this manner of a reaction.”

Archie gaped at him as though he had just insisted that the Indy could fly. “Are you mad? A Drury Lane production is -- why, it’s magical, Horatio! There's nothing like it! The beauty of the language, the utter dedication of the actors to their roles, the energy sparking through the crowd! It's the most wondrous thing imaginable! Why have you not gone before?”

Horatio’s eyes instinctively flicked down to inspect his pinchbeck shoe buckles, their shine far less lustrous than Archie’s of polished silver. He raised his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Father rarely had cause to venture to London, and he most often travelled alone.”

“Oh,” Archie said, his tone unusually soft.

Horatio clenched his jaw, his stomach churning. Was that pity in Archie’s voice? He jerked his head up, his shoulders raised defensively and turned to glare at Archie.

Archie was smiling softly at him, his eyes shining with such open affection that Horatio had to look away, ashamed at his assumption.

“Well, we have some time to make up for, don’t we?” Archie said, his voice warm. “And, as I would dearly love to see a play and we have yet to celebrate your promotion, I have a proposition for you.” He took a step closer and leaned in so his voice wouldn't carry beyond Horatio’s hearing. “Horatio, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the theatre tonight?”

Horatio narrowed his eyes. The formality of the invitation, the intimacy of his inflection--why, it sounded as though Archie were courting him! But surely even Archie would not be so reckless as to flirt with him in the middle of a public street. He started and looked up at Archie, his eyebrows raised in question. Archie grinned in answer, his eyes twinkling.

“Archie!” Horatio hissed, glancing about them furtively in case someone had overheard.

“Yes, Horatio?” Archie asked, feigning innocence as he fought back a smile.

“But -- I -- you -- we can’t--” Horatio spluttered.

“--Of course we can,” Archie interrupted, his lips twitching as he fought back a smirk. “No one would think anything of it. Unless they saw how guilty you were acting, that is.”

Horatio stilled. No tell-tale traces of their lovemaking the night prior were emblazoned on their uniforms. As long as he continued to keep his hands to his own person and refrained from kissing Archie senseless in the middle of the busy thoroughfare, they would be perfectly safe. He merely had to act natural. He cleared his throat and forcibly dropped his shoulders from where they had been encroaching on his neck. “You make an excellent point, Mr. Kennedy. I’ll endeavour to avoid that error in future.”

“Don't trouble yourself, Horatio. You’ll learn the ropes soon enough,” Archie said, punctuating the sentence by giving Horatio an understanding smile and clap on the shoulder that made him long for the privacy of their room at the inn once more. “Now, shall we go purchase tickets for tonight’s production?”

Horatio hesitated, his brows pulling down. What did one wear to the theatre? Would he understand the play? And how much would the ticket cost? His new uniform and their lodging had already depleted his savings; this additional expense might require him to give supper tomorrow a miss. Frugality, as well as prudence, should demand that he make his excuses.

But, to attend a play with Archie, to watch the joy radiating from him as he stared in rapt attention--surely that would surely be worth any cost. “It would be a pleasure, Mr. Kennedy.”

Archie smiled so brightly the whole of London seemed to pale in comparison. “In that case, let us obtain our tickets at once! Come on, Horatio! This way!” He spun around with a grace that spoke of his tutelage under a dancing master, and sallied forth, a spring in his step Horatio had feared had been tortured out of him in a Spanish prison.

Captain Pellew was right. A short stay in London was precisely what they both needed.

***

“--Or it might be _The Rivals_ again,” Archie continued, his steps bouncing so greatly that he was nearly skipping by Horatio’s side along the narrow alley. “That would be alright, I suppose, although I’d much prefer it if _Much Ado About Nothing_ were on. Soldiers, home from war, banter, intrigue, a small band of friends fighting against injustice-- it would make for a perfect introduction to Shakespeare, and the theatre. You’d love it, Horatio!”

Thus far, Archie had encompassed the costumes, acting, scenery, smell, concessions, and comfort of the seating at Drury Lane in his enthusiastic panegyric. Two years ago, Horatio might have assumed such idle prattle would cause him to wish for death, either for his interlocutor, or for himself. And yet, from Archie, it was a sound more welcome than even the wind through the rigging. “I’m sure I would, Archie. But, regardless of the work, I’ll be quite content with anything we see.”

Archie rolled his eyes. “That’s as may be, but your first time at the theatre should be more than merely acceptable. It should be memorable! Exceptional!”

Horatio smiled fondly as a strange fluttering sensation filled his chest. He risked a quick glance about them. They were free from prying eyes, for the moment. He wetted his lips, his heart beating in his ears, then leaned in close. “It will be. You’ll be there,” he whispered, as quietly as he could.

Archie’s eyes widened, darting quickly to check their surroundings, before a bright grin spread over his lips. He reached down and clasped Horatio’s hand, stroking it gently with his thumb. “So I shall. Right by your side.” He hesitated, then looked up into Horatio’s eyes with undisguised affection. “Just as I was last night.”

Horatio swallowed and tried to push away those glorious memories before he took leave of his senses. He gave Archie’s hand a quick squeeze, then pulled away to clasp his hands behind his back. Such intimacies must be reserved for behind safely secured doors, not in the middle of the alley, lack of witnesses notwithstanding. He cleared his throat. “Just so. Well, Mr. Kennedy, lead on.”

Archie’s smile flickered like candlelight in a breeze. He stepped away rapidly, then nodded toward the end of the alley. “Of course, Mr. Hornblower. This way.” He hurried on, not bothering to wait for Horatio to walk by his side.

Horatio frowned. Surely Archie realised he was merely attempting to exercise caution?

_“You mean-- you truly want me? Want this? Despite everything?”_

Horatio winced as Archie’s shocked expression from the other night floated through his mind. This was far more difficult than he’d anticipated.

“Archie? Archie, wait!” Horatio called out and sprinted after him, catching up with him as the alleyway turned into the main thoroughfare.

Archie turned around with a smile a touch too brittle to reach his eyes. “Yes, Horatio?”

Horatio took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “I . . . er . . . fear I may have unintentionally caused offense. I assure you that my -- my actions a moment earlier were merely the result of a natural concern for our continued wellbeing, rather than an implication that I regret--”

“--Horatio, you--” A moment later, Horatio found himself being yanked back into the alley by the sleeve of his frock coat.

“Archie?”

“Shhhh,” Archie hissed, keeping them in silence until they’d reached the mid-point of the alley. Archie glanced around, his eyes darting back and forth with an almost frantic speed. “Horatio, I can’t believe -- you magnificent, absurd--” he took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering nervously. “I wasn’t upset at -- at what you thought I was upset by.”

Horatio frowned. “Then what was it? What did I do?”

Archie rolled his eyes. “I was upset at myself, Horatio! You were right to pull away from my --” he jutted out his jaw, “--my lapse of control. And clearly my . . . indiscretions invite your own, given what you nearly announced to the street.”

Horatio blinked, the precarious reality of their situation crashing into him for the first time. He was normally impeccably cautious--or at least, he strove to be--and yet how could he have been so reckless? And how would they keep up the pretence of being mere friends when they returned to the ship? He swallowed, the thought of plunging Archie into danger’s path so soon after returning him to the safety of the _Indy_ turning his stomach as much as the stormiest waters. “Oh,” he said at last.

“Oh indeed,” Archie answered, his smile adopting a bitter note. “So, shall we continue, and this time, I’ll keep my hands to my own person?”

Horatio sighed. “I suppose we must,” he said with no small amount of regret.

Archie smiled sympathetically. He reached out to place a supportive hand on Horatio’s shoulder before recollecting himself and returning it back to his side with a sheepish shrug and chuckle. “It’ll come with practice.”

Horatio huffed out a laugh. “Let’s hope so. Shall we?” he asked, gesturing ahead of them.

Archie looked longingly at Horatio one more time before taking a deep breath and setting his eyes on the busy street that awaited them. “Right. Once more unto the breach, dear friend.”

Horatio frowned as he tried to remember the source of that quotation. “One of the Henry’s or Richard’s, I assume?”

Archie smiled, the pinched look around his eyes starting to fade. “Good guess, Horatio! It’s from _Henry V_! That would be another excellent one for you, I think. Full of patriotic speeches about the might of England, people doing their duty for the greater good, and all that. I should recite the passage for you in its entirety so you can experience its full glory.” He cleared his throat and began to process toward the street, his head and shoulders held high. “‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace, there’s nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility; but when--’”

Horatio followed, his heart full of love for this passionate man with a nigh irrepressible spirit who somehow reciprocated his feelings. He would treasure every moment they had together, whether on the ship or off.

***

“And, of course, it’s been years since I spent my halcyon summer days lounging about backstage, but perhaps we could slip in there after the show. There are some people there I would very much like you to meet, assuming they’re still affiliated with Drury Lane. And--good God, this has grown,” Archie said, staring up in awe at the magnificent facade of the Theatre Royal. “I had heard that it was being rebuilt, of course, but I had no idea its replacement would be so grand. Look at that colonnade, Horatio!”

Horatio swallowed as he stared at the imposing columns and the tower atop the Theatre Royal. Surely it must be one of the tallest buildings in London--apart from the churches, of course. “Is . . . is that a statue on the roof?”

Archie squinted, then chuckled. “Do you know, I think it is. Apollo, I would wager, watching over the theatrical goings-on. But never mind that now, Horatio! Let’s see what marvel lies in wait for us.” With a jaunty grin, he sped up, nearly sprinting to the door whose playbill proudly advertised the performance for the night.

Horatio smiled fondly as he followed him.

Archie skidded to a stop in front of the playbill. “It’s -- oh,” he said quietly, his shoulders suddenly rigid.

Horatio’s stomach lurched. He quickened his step and stood at Archie’s side in mere seconds. “Archie? Archie, what’s wrong? Are you unwell?” He forced himself not to place a calming hand on Archie’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” Archie blinked and looked up, his eyes slightly glassy. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m merely a tad . . . disappointed in the choice of play.”

Horatio frowned and read the title printed on the playbill. “In _Antony and Cleopatra_? Why? What’s wrong with it?”

Archie’s eyelids fluttered momentarily and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Nothing at all. It’s an excellent work. I -- I had merely wished for you to see one of the comedies.”

Horatio narrowed his eyes. Even Archie, dramatic though he was, rarely reacted to something so small with such passion. He must be hiding something. Horatio pressed his lips together and tried to choose his words with the utmost caution. “Archie, are you sure that is your only concern? You wouldn’t rather . . . do something else this evening?”

Archie’s eyes fluttered once more before he plastered on a smile and shook his head. “Horatio, are you suggesting that _I_ steer clear of a Shakespeare play? I can hardly imagine a worse fate. No, Mr. Hornblower, our celebration will continue as planned: you will witness a masterpiece, and I will share it with you.”

“But--” Horatio trailed off, his forehead wrinkling. At their room at the inn, with just the two of them, Archie could perhaps be convinced to explain what was troubling him. But in public? Archie’s lips would be as locked as a sea chest. Nothing for it but to play along. Horatio managed a smile and a faint nod. “If you’re sure, Mr. Kennedy, then nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

Archie’s forced smile shifted into a ghost of its earlier, genuine sparkle. “Excellent. In that case, I’ll return in just a moment with our tickets.” He turned and started to walk inside.

“Archie, wait.” Horatio reached out, resting his hand on Archie’s forearm to halt his forward movement. Archie tensed and spun around, his eyes momentarily wild. Horatio let go instantly and took a step away, clasping his hands behind his back to project as non-threatening an image as possible. “Archie?”

Archie stared at Horatio, his eyes glassy and unseeing.

Horatio waited, his heart pounding in his ears, praying that Archie would be spared the shame of a fit in public and the end of his naval career.

Archie blinked, then shook his head and let out a rather shaky sigh with a bitter smile. “Startled me there, I’m afraid. What was it you need, Horatio?”

Horatio hesitated. This hardly seemed the moment to debate pecuniary matters. But it was pressing nonetheless. And perhaps it would provide a momentary distraction from whatever was ailing Archie. He pressed his lips together and prepared himself. “I can pay my own way,” he said at last.

Archie rolled his eyes. “Horatio, let it be. I have backpay, an allowance, and nothing else to spend it on. Consider it a present for the Christmases I missed these last two years.”

“Archie--”

“--Or recompense for saving my life,” Archie said quietly.

Horatio shook his head, his throat suddenly thick. “Archie, you -- that is -- I --” He cleared his throat, glanced down at his shoes to regain his composure, and tried again. “If I helped, then I have been more than amply rewarded by your continued presence in my life. And any remaining imagined debt would have been repaid tenfold by your saving my life at the bridge.”

“But--”

“You don’t owe me anything, Archie. You never shall.”

Archie glanced away, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Horatio, I --” He swallowed, took a deep breath, then met Horatio’s gaze again, his eyes shining with tears. “Without you, my corpse would be rotting in El Ferrol. You made me desire a different future. Treating you to a night at the theatre seems meager thanks in comparison, but it’s all I have to offer. Please, Horatio. Allow me to do this small thing for you.”

Horatio’s gaze dropped to his shoe buckle. It grated his pride to accept such generosity, even from Archie. But how could he turn it down? When Archie had lain delirious on his bed, screaming in agony for that monster Simpson to leave him be, Horatio had promised himself that, as long as he drew breath, he would dedicate himself to Archie’s happiness. It had been years since Archie had smiled as brightly as he had today, since a spark of life instead of the ghosts of his years of captivity and torture shone through his eyes. And something had already threatened to extinguish it in the last few minutes. If this simple act would make that spark catch fire, then it was the least he could do. He took a deep breath, shoved down his pride, and met Archie’s eyes. “Certainly, Archie, if you’ll let me buy our supper and drinks.”

Archie huffed out a wet, relieved chuckle. “If that is the price your pride exacts, then I will gladly pay it. Come, Horatio--” Archie continued before Horatio could object or change his mind, “let’s go inside and get our tickets. I’m eager to see if the theatre has changed as much within as without. It looks enormous!” And with that, he turned and entered the imposing structure with an ease that belied his tears just moments ago.

Horatio blinked after him. Archie may have trod the boards of the deck rather than of the stage, but he was certainly as fine an actor as any they would see tonight.

If only Archie would realise that he need never pretend with him.

With a heavy sigh, Horatio followed him into the building.

***

“Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow of Antony's death,” the actor playing Eros declaimed, before spinning the sword around and running it through his own breast.

Horatio started as Eros fell to the ground. He forced himself not to look at Archie, not to reach for him to assure himself that his dearest love still sat beside him, breathing and unharmed. This was merely a play. There was no reason it should unman him so. And it might upset Archie to see him so moved. There was nothing for it but to soldier on. He squared his shoulders, clasped his hands in his lap to keep himself from clutching Archie to him, and fixed his eyes upon the stage.

“But I will be a bridegroom in my death, and run into't as to a lover's bed,” Mark Antony exclaimed. “Come, then; and, Eros, thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus--”

Horatio’s heart stuttered to a stop as Antony, too, fell upon his sword. It was too much to bear, to see a man do what Archie had vainly attempted, to--

“How! not dead? not dead? The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!”

Horatio clenched his hands together more tightly as they began to shake. Oh, dear God, a failed attempt? He swallowed as images of Archie, writhing and shivering on the bed, bombarded his mind.

He risked a glance at Archie, who was staring at the stage intently, his eyes pinched, nostrils flaring, and jaw firmly set.

Horatio dragged his eyes back toward the stage, his heart aching, as Antony was laid in Cleopatra’s arms. If only there were something he could do, some way to remind Archie of the progress he had made since that horrid day, that the fate of these lovers was not theirs, that they would live, would always be together--

        “--shall I abide  
        In this dull world, which in thy absence is  
        No better than a sty?”

Horatio frantically blinked back tears, remembering his own frantic vigil and desperate pleas as Archie had struggled against his fever. The _Indy_ without Archie would have been equally barren.

Antony slumped, lifeless, in Cleopatra’s arms.

Horatio swallowed back a sob and felt Archie tense at his side. Horatio prepared to look over at him, ready to apologise for his response, to find some means of reassuring him, when Cleopatra’s eulogy over the body of her beloved chilled him to his core.

        “The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!  
         O, wither'd is the garland of the war--”

Horatio gasped as the words that had haunted him since El Ferrol echoed across the vast stage, and turned to look at his beloved. Archie’s head was bowed, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor of their box, his shoulders high and rigid, and his knuckles white from their grip on his knee. As Horatio watched, Archie hunched further into himself, his adam's apple bobbing as he tried not to cry.

Horatio longed to hold him, to run his fingers through his hair, to lean forward and offer a hand and a whispered promise that Archie could hold it as tightly as necessary. To promise he would be loved for all eternity. But to do so would endanger them both. Damn it all to hell, how was--

He shook his head and tried to focus. Railing against the cruelty of the world would hardly bring Archie peace. He glanced around, ascertained that no one from a nearby box could see, then shifted his legs to gently bump his knee against Archie's, the most innocuous gesture of comfort he could come up with.

Archie swallowed again and shook his head, unable to meet his eyes. His shoulders began to shake with the effort of holding back tears.

Horatio hesitated, glanced around once more, then shifted to the edge of his seat until the left side of his leg was gently touching Archie’s. He stayed there, desperately hoping his affection would seep into Archie along with his warmth, and would help stop the faint tremors that Horatio now felt coursing through Archie’s frame.

Archie turned his head slightly toward Horatio. His face was a mask of misery, his lips held tightly together in a thin, white line that trembled despite the pressure, his eyes brimming with tears, shame, and pleas for forgiveness in equal parts.

Horatio swallowed, his heart in his throat. How could he possibly convey all his love and reassurances with looks alone? He hesitated, and glanced around once more. Surely, in their private box, and during such an emotional moment, no one would notice a slight breach of protocol. Before he could think twice about his decision, he slid his hand down to his knee and let his fifth finger rest gently against Archie’s.

Archie’s head jerked up, his eyes flying open, eyes his saying more loudly than any words that he thought Horatio had just taken leave of his senses.

Horatio smiled and shook his head, then gently tapped his little finger against Archie’s again. It was hardly a sonnet or a six shilling theatre ticket--it was painfully insignificant, compared with what Archie truly needed--but here and now, it was the most lavish gift he could provide. Archie’s happiness would always be worth any risk.

Archie sniffled as his tears started to fall and gave a glimmer of a smile. He slid his own hand to the right side of his knee and, slowly and carefully, hooked Horatio’s finger with his own, a larger declaration of love than any of their activities the night prior, heavenly though they had been for both of them.

Horatio gave his finger as supportive a squeeze as he could surreptitiously provide, and hoped it conveyed with it a promise to love, to honor, and to cherish him, from now, until the end of time.

Archie huffed out a quiet wisp of a chuckle and squeezed back, his smile saying that at least some of the message had been received.

By unspoken agreement, they turned to face the stage again, their fingers still loosely entangled.

It was not nearly enough, but it would suffice for now. Once they returned to the sanctuary of their inn, there would be more to say, more he could do to give comfort. And certainly, after running the emotional gauntlet of the evening, their more amorous activities might need to be postponed for another night, or even another shore leave.

But, as long as Archie was alive and breathing by his side, nothing else mattered.


End file.
